Divergent- Christina's POV
by KatrisLancaster
Summary: Hey guys! I decided that not enough people were writing from Christina's POV so I decided to try it! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

My blood drips onto the coals that symbolise Dauntless. A lock of my dark hair falls in front of my face and I brush it away. I smile. Freedom. Free from telling the truth. Every. Single. Day.

My mom and sister are watching me, I guess they didn't even think I would choose Dauntless. But I did. Rose shakes her head, did I betray her? No, I didn't. I just declared my own freedom.

Candor wasn't exactly a great faction, I'm just going to say. People always telling you how much they hate you, having to tell people I hate them- it just isn't the life for me. Maybe Dauntless is. That's what my aptitude test told me, anyway. I stand among the Dauntless, the ones who have chosen anyway.

I stand silently, proudly, as I watch the other sixteen year olds make their decision. Candor is a large faction, as one would expect, and I hate basically everyone in it. Especially Peter Hayes and Molly Atwood. Drew's not as bad, but I still hate him. Molly chose Dauntless, I knew that before I went because she was one of the first to choose. I wasn't going to let her stop me from being free. Why should I?

Peter Hayes just chose Dauntless. Peter Hayes just chose Dauntless. Okay, now that makes me question my freedom. He is fit for Dauntless though, like all Candor. It takes a lot of bravery to say what you think all the time, when it's highly likely that you could get beat up. At least I don't have to say everything on my mind anymore. But I'll never stop with Peter.

I don't believe it. Drew chose Dauntless too, the three amigos always stick together they would say. They would never leave each other they said to their families. Wow. That's low even for Peter of all people.

A lanky-but-attractive Abnegation boy just chose Erudite, Jeanine Matthews is going to love that. I recognise that boy, too. He's the son of an Abnegation leader, Andrew Prior. He's one of the few that I remember, all Abnegation look the same to me. Abnegation never change fractions. That Prior kid makes that the second Abnegation to switch factions today.

That must be some sort of record.

A short-but-not-exactly-willowy Abnegation girl, who I also think is one of Andrew Prior's children, let's her bleeding hand hover over the Abnegation stones and the Dauntless coals. Abnegation never choose Dauntless. But she does.

Three Abnegation kids in one day. Now that has to be a record.

Surprisingly, a lot of people switch factions- except for the Dauntless and Abnegation. Standard. But there's something up with the Dauntless this year. One of the leaders, I think, has a greedy, hungry smile on his face every time someone chooses Dauntless. So does Jeanine Matthews, even though she's Erudite. I'm normally curious. Always have been. Always will. And my curiosity is leading me somewhere that I don't like.

But that's what I did in Candor. I won't do that in Dauntless. Although curiosity isn't all bad.

The Choosing Ceremony is over. I try to get one last glimpse of my family, of my friends, but the Dauntless run up the stairs. Aren't there elevators for a reason? Nobody takes stairs, only Abnegation. I see the Abnegation-turned-Dauntless girl try to see through their motives, but Abnegation aren't raised that way. They're all raised, wear gray, don't look in the mirror, don't touch each other in public, don't talk unless you are spoken to. Thank goodness I was raised Candor.

A Dauntless-born past me and bumps into me. "Hey!" I shout. The boy, obviously scared about facing the wrath of a Candor Girl, freezes. "I'm Uriah." "Christina." I reply. Uriah shakes my hand and I follow him. Everybody stops. A sound comes from the distance. The Dauntless-borns know what's happening. I vaguely think it's a train. It's a train. I heard the trains don't stop. Ever. I see Dauntless jump in and out of them everyday. Which means initiation starts very, very soon.

It starts right now.

The Dauntless run. I run. We all run. Everyone has to run if they don't want to be factionless. Apparently death is better than being factionless.

I jump into the train, with some difficulty. Good thing I'm fast.

The Abnegation girl, the Prior's daughter, slams her shoulder into the car. Hard. I help her in. She is gasping so I can't tell, but I think she says thanks. We hear a shout and a moan and we both turn to the sound.

The Erudite boy, who must be accountable for the moaning, isn't fast or lucky. An Erudite girl is screaming for him to run, but he can't. He failed Dauntless initiation already. He's factionless. He drops to his knees in disappointment.

"You all right?" I ask the Abnegation girl. She nods. "I'm Christina." I shake her hand and she says quietly, "Beatrice."

"You know where we're going?" Beatrice sits down. I raise an eyebrow. "A fast train means wind. Wind means falling out. Get down." she says. If she's this smart, why didn't she choose Erudite? I sit next to her. I've never been good at making friends, but she seems like she might. This might work out. I'll need a friend if initiation is always this tough.

"I guess we're going to Dauntless headquarters, but I don't know where that is." Beatrice says in answer to my question earlier. I nod. Abnegation kids don't really get to go as many places as the other factions. They go to school, the factionless quarters, their houses and little else. Period.

"Does anyone? It's like they just popped out of a hole in the ground or something." I grin. Unless you are Dauntless, generally nobody knows where it is.

"They're jumping off!" Somebody shouts. Oh no. The train slows down a little bit, we're in the last car so we get to see the others jump first. "We have to jump off too, then." Molly Atwood says, her crooked teeth giving her a slight lisp. "Great, because that makes perfect sense, Molly. Leap off a train onto a roof." Peter replies. Great. I'm stuck with them for the rest of my life, if we all make it through initiation.

"This is kind of what we signed up for, Peter." Large-nosed-Molly replies. "Well, I'm not doing it." says some olive-skinned Amity transfer. The only Amity transfer. Not many Amity convert to Dauntless. That banjo strumming softie is gonna end up factionless, he has to jump. I have to help him. He's been crying, his cheeks have tears all over them

"You've got to or you fail. Come on, it'll be alright." I push. He has to. He must. "No, it won't! I'd rather be factionless than dead!" He shakes his head in terror. Factionless over death? What a loony. I stare at him. What's wrong with him? What does he think he's achieving here? If he chooses to be factionless, he'll end up dead there. Amity factionless always end that way, they can't fight for food because of all that peace-nonsense in their heads. I shake the thought away, it's his funeral. Not mine.

"You can't force him." Beatrice's quiet voice says. I press my lips together. Gosh, the Amity are so messed up. More messed up than the Dauntless. Which I am trying to become. Which I am about to jump off a roof to become. Right now.

"Here," Beatrice raises an eyebrow at my extended hand but I guess she decides if she's gonna die, we're better off dying together. As soon as she takes my hand I shout, "Onethree!" We jump. We jump. I land pretty well, I think. I laugh. I actually laugh. I really think I will fit in here. So will Beatrice. We will live a happy life here. I can feel it.

"That was fun," I say to Beatrice, who just got a cheek-full of gravel. Molly holds her ankle, that clumsy loser. Peter grins, ugh, he landed on his feet. That stupid show-off.

"No! No!" I hear a girl wail. Oh no. This can't be good. A Dauntless boy is holding a wailing Dauntless girl by the waist. They are standing on the edge of the building. A go over to see what all the fuss is about, and lose my breath. "Rita, Rita, calm down. Rita." the boy says. Rita sinks to her knees. I know why.

A Dauntless girl, her sister I presume, is dead on the pavement. Her black-clothed limbs are bent in uncomfortable and awkward angles. I feel like crying. I never even met the girl. Thank goodness it was only her. At least it wasn't me. I wish it was Peter. I wish it was Molly. Not this innocent girl. This is wrong. I don't doubt that she was brave, but to die for her pride? It's ridiculous. I'm about to tell someone how absurd and cruel it is when I stop.

I am not Candor. I am not Dauntless. But if I want to be, I have to survive initiation. If I want to survive I'd better shut my mouth. No more Candor for me. Because now the most dangerous part of initiation is still to come.

And I'd better hide that cowardice if I want to be brave. I want to be brave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed my first chapter! This is actually a lot harder than it seems, but it's pretty fun, too! Enjoy!**

Beatrice didn't land right when we jumped. At least she wasn't like Rita's sister, thank God. But Beatrice did land on her elbow. It looks like it would've hurt, too. She pulls up her sleeve to examine the wound, the skins peeling off but there's no blood.

"Ooh. Scandalous! A Stiff's flashing some skin!" comments Peter. "Stiff" is what the other factions use to call ones of the Abnegation. There's only one Abnegation here, and that's Beatrice. Peter points at her and I hear others laugh, like she's some clown or something. I press my lips together tightly as Beatrice lets her sleeve fall.

"Listen up! My name is Max! I am one of the leaders of your new faction!" shouts a man who is also on the roof. He is kinda old, with wrinkles on his dark-skinned head. Max stand on the roof like someone's sister didn't just fall to her death. Does nobody care about death here? Is it just part of pride? Do you lose your pride if people mourn you?

"Several stories below us is the member's entrance to our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first."

My eyes go wide. Jump off? I don't know why this surprises me. But it surprises some big-lipped Erudite girl. "You want us to jump off a ledge?"

"Yes."

"Is there water at the bottom or something?"

"Who knows?"

Geez, why didn't this girl go to Candor? Nobody looks like they're going to jump, it looks like nobody will after a minute, until somebody in grey clothing walks toward the ledge.

There's only one person who wears grey clothing here. It's Beatrice. Okay, I don't think anybody saw that coming. Who would've thought, off all people, a Stiff would jump first? Well, she hasn't yet. What if she ends out like Rita's sister? To my surprise, she whips off her jacket and throws it at Peter. As hard as she can. I smile, congrats to her for sticking one at him- he's a jerk.

Some people make catcalls, like she was feisty or something.

The shirt Beatrice is currently is tight, tighter than any other piece of Abnegation clothing I've ever seen. But she's not Abnegation anymore- if she does this jump, she'll be Dauntless.

Beatrice jumps.

My stomach lurches, I can't believe it! The Stiff jumped first! I get one last look at her before she disappears into the gaping black hole. There's no water. You can see that, there was no splash sound and splash movement of any kind. My guess is there is a net. I think. That's it. If the Stiff can jump first, I can certainly attempt to go second. I step towards the ledge.

"It's not like she can do it better than us, or before us for that matter," Molly's nasally voice says. Peter, Drew and Molly all come toward me. They wanna prove they're brave. Well, no jerk is allowed to be braver than me. None.

I jump.

I scream so loud and long that time doesn't make it's mark in my mind. The jump is amazing. I land in the net and see Beatrice. She's smiling as wide as I am. Good. They ask my name and I reply with my actual name, I don't think I need to change it. Good. But Beatrice, or should I say Tris, changed hers. It suits her.

I am Dauntless, now. Tris is Dauntless, now. We've left behind our factions and chosen another. And I love it more by the minute.

When all of the initiates have jumped, thank God nobody died, we are led down a tunnel by two people- a boy who could only be about eighteen and another young-ish girl, probably about eighteen too.

"This is where we divide," the girl, Lauren, says. "The Dauntless- born initiates are with me. I assume you don't need a tour of the place."

The Dauntless-borns follow Lauren and we are left with the, let me say incredibly good-looking but extremely scary, boy. Most of the transfers are Candor and Erudite. There's only nine transfers in all. There was eleven. Two are factionless. But the only person missing a life is Rita's sister, Dauntless-born.

"Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor." the boy says. "My name is Four."

And in this moment, I cannot keep my Candor-mouth shut. "Four? Like the number?"

"Yes, is there a problem?"

"No."

"Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It-"

Then my Candor-mouth returns. "The Pit? Clever name."

Oh no. I've done it this time.

And Four knows this too. He walks up to me, told you he was scary, narrows his eyes and asks "What's your name?"

"Christina " I manage to squeak.

"Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction. The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"

I nod. Geez, I thought only Candor got angry that easily, I guess not. Everyone moves forward, but I drop back and wait for Tris.

"What a jerk," I mumble. "I guess he doesn't like to be laughed at," Tris replies. We'd better be careful around him, because he doesn't seem all that, I don't know, nice? We walk into what Four called "the Pit."

"Oh, I get it." I whisper. Pit is a great word to describe it. It really is. It's like a huge underground hole. A cave, even. It's amazing. There are paths and steps carved into the rock, but no railings. People could easily fall off. I could push Peter off there, actually that doesn't sound half bad. I just might.

The roof of the Pit is glass. All glass. Letting in bits of light in this darkness. Beautiful. It actually is. Everyone. Dressed in black. Pierced and tattooed. All young. It hits me. All young. No old Dauntless. Where do they go. All are under the age of about fifty-five. And then... What? Do they move somewhere or something? Do they get... Killed? Be made factionless? God. This place is messed up. But yet, there is something wonderful in it, something beautiful among this chaos. Something that I will learn to love. Something I think I already love. Dauntless. Not Candor. Dauntless.

"If you follow me, I'll show you the chasm."

As if we have a choice. I can't see any piercings, tattoos on Four. I'm thinking that it's really odd, when he turns around and ink covers basically seventy-five percent of his neck, and most likely much of his back. I can see the chasm. It's incredible. But scary. Yet, beautiful. I don't know how.

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy! A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned." Four shouts over the loud noise of the water crashing against the rocks.

"This is incredible." I say to Tris. "Incredible is the word," she replies, nodding.

We got to get food, I love food so much, and am relieved to find we are having hamburgers. Good. We used to have these at home. A little but of home to hold on to, even if it's food. Tris and I sit at a relatively empty table, Tris sits next to Four and I. Tris pinches it between her fingers, like she's never seen one before. She's never seen one before. Mom always told me Abnegation were strict, but hamburgers? Really?

Four nudges Tris, "It's beef. Put this on it," he passes her some tomato sauce.

"You've never had a hamburger before?" I ask, eyes wide.

"No, is that what it's called?"

I slap my hand against my forehead. It's not her fault really, it's the Abnegation and their ways, I suppose.

"Stiffs eat plain food," Four explains to me.

"Why?"

"Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary," Tris shrugs.

"No wonder you left."

"Yeah, it because of the food"

Did the Stiff just make a joke? Wow. She jumped first and cracked a joke. She really wasn't cut out for Abnegation, but there is still a bit of selflessness in her, though. I wonder how her parents are, I remember how both of the Prior kids left.

Rose. My sister. I hope she doesn't swap. But, that's what she was thinking about for me, wasn't it? God. I don't know how my mom must feel. Betrayal? Hurt? Pride? I don't know. I don't know. All I know is I made the right choice.

Yes, I think it's the right choice, I just hope I make more good choices.

Some creepy dude, about Four's age, with a countless amount of piercings starts towards our table.

"Who's that?" I hiss.

"His name is Eric, he's a Dauntless leader," Four replies.

"Seriously? But he's so young."

"Age doesn't matter here."

Well, I can kinda tell now. I open up my mouth to ask what actually does matter, when Eric stops. At out table. He looks like a prized potato head.

All of a sudden Eric drops into the seat next to Four. He doesn't greet us. Should we greet him? No. Not him.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" Eric says, nodding to Tris and I.

"This is Tris and Christina."

"Ooh, a Stiff, we'll see how long you last."

What a bozo. There's something about this Eric guy. I hate him. I've never spoken to him, but I don't need to speak to someone to know I don't like them.

His knuckles are scabbed- he must punch thing a lot.

Or people.

"What have you been doing lately, Four,?"

"Nothing, really,"

"Max tells me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you don't show up. He requested that I find out what's going on with you."

"Tell him that I am satisfied with the position I already hold."

"So he wants to give you a job." I think Eric sees Four as a threat. Does he? That'd be scary for someone who holds so much power.

"So it would seem." Four says.

"And you aren't interested?" Eric has a glint in his eye. That's not a good sign.

"I haven't been interested for two years."

"Well, let's hope he gets the point." He claps Four on the shoulder, more like slap- it was too hard for a clap.

"Are you two... friends?" Tris asks.

"We were in the same initiate class, he transferred from Erudite."

"Were you a transfer too?"

"I thought I would only have trouble with the Candor asking too many questions. Now I've got Stiffs too?"

Well that feels like a slap in the face.

"It must be because you're so approachable, you know, like a bed of nails."

Tris! What are you doing?

"Careful, Tris." Four turns and walks away.

Tris would've been cut out for Candor. I take a bite of my hamburger and put it back down. I raise both eyebrows at my new friend Tris and grin.

"What?" Tris asks.

"I'm developing a theory."

"And it is?"

I pick up my hamburger again and, before taking another bite, say "That you have a death wish."

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll try to post the next chapter up soon! Don't forget to like, comment, review and even some constructive criticism! Thanks guys!**

**-Lucia**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3-

**Sorry,**

**I'm just telling you that I am so terribly sorry for not being active, I have had camps and surgery and exams but these are not good excuses, I know, but I am active now and I know that some of you got very angry and I'm sorry. **

**I am currently writing Chapter Four so expect the new instalment very, very soon!**

**Thanks Divergent Rebels,**

**-Lucia :)**

I walk behind Tris on the dark, uneven ground. Blue lamps light the way every so often, leaving us not entirely in the dark, but almost. Everyone is silent. When you follow Eric, there are no words to say.

Not even for someone from Candor.

"For those of you who don't know, my name is Eric." I kind of wish I didn't know, honestly. "I am one of five leaders of the Dauntless. We take the initiation process very seriously here's so I volunteered to oversee most of your training."

Ugh, great, we have a bozo overseeing initiation. Four and Eric? You have got to be kidding.

"Some ground rules; you have to be in the training room by eight o'clock everyday. Training takes place everyday from eight to six, with a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get some time off between each stage of initiation."

Thank god. I'll need a break. And do whatever I like... now that sounds like my kinda thing. I wanna get a tattoo, I've realised. A tattoo.

"You are only permitted to leave the compound when accompanied by a Dauntless. Behind this door is where you will be sleeping the next few weeks. You will notice that there are ten beds and only nine of you. We anticipated that a higher portion of you would make it this far."

It this far? It this far? It sticks in my mind. Meaning there is more. A lot more. Then a thought comes to me. A horrifying one.

And then my Candor mouth can't keep shut, again.

"But we started with twelve," I protest. I really need to learn to shut up don't I? Oh dear God. Oh God. I'm really gonna cop this crap now.

"There is always at least one transfer who doesn't make it to the compound." Eric shrugs, "Anyway, in the first stage of initiation, we keep transfers and Dauntless-born initiates separate, but hat doesn't mean you are evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the Dauntless-born initiates. And they are probably better than you already. So I expect-"

"Rankings?" An Erudite girl says. Her name is Myra. She was in my maths class. Nice enough, not smart enough- as the other Erudite would say. Maybe that's why she's here. "Why are we ranked?"

Eric smiles. I guess he gets asked a lot. His smile is wicked, thirsty even. What a creepo.

"Your ranking serves two purposes. The first is that it determines the order in which you will select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available. The second purpose is that only the top ten initiates are made members."

I let that sink in. Only ten. Ten. That's not very many. But if we don't become members then, then, "What?"

"There are eleven Dauntless-borns and nine of you," that's twenty, half of that is ten, ten will go through. "Four initiates will be cut after stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test."

So if we make it through stage one, still six of us will be cut. Ouch. I look at Tris, the smallest initiate. The one from Abnegation. The first jumper. But still the smallest.

"What do we do if we're cut?" Peter says. Is he dumb? Can't he tell? I sincerely hope that bozo gets cut.

"You leave the Dauntless compound and live factionless."

Myra let's out a cry. She's not tough either. She will be factionless. Nice enough, not smart enough, not brave enough. Stop crying you little wus, we are all in this together, you know. I will be a member. A tattooed, pierced member. But a member all the same.

"But that's not fair!" Molly says. Really? Get a life Molly, then you'll realise that they aren't fair. Lives aren't fair, it's part of the deal. "If we had known..."

"Are you saying that if you knew this before the Choosing Ceremony that you wouldn't have chosen Dauntless. Because if that's the case then you should get out now. If you really are one of us, it won't matter to you that you might fail. And if it does, you are a coward."

Coward. That word that the Candor have used to describe me over the years. Not brave enough. Not brave enough to tell everyone how I felt. But now I'm here. I'm here and they cannot change that. And I will be a member and they will be telling everyone how they feel and making everyone miserable.

Eric opens the dormitory door and says, "You chose us. Now we have to choose you."

Eight other people are breathing in this dormitory. I cannot get to sleep. I am in the black clothes the Dauntless gave us, so is everyone else, except for Tris. At least, for me, black was one of my faction colours. For Tris, she only knows grey.

Grey is a sad colour.

It reminds me of those days with girls talking about each other behind their backs. The tortured Abnegation boy in my literacy class. The Dauntless girl who tried to drown my sister. The Erudite girl who cut my hair and stuck it on my forehead. The Amity girl with the hollow eyes as she helped an Abnegation girl up off the ground. After she was pushed by an Erudite boy. That boy is here, in this dormitory.

We are all here.

A tear rolls down my cheek. I cannot cry here. No, not here not now. Tris's bed is near mine. I can hear her crying. But I can barely hear her over Al, another Candor transfer, who is shaking and crying and moaning and weeping. And I think he's having a seizure. But I wouldn't know- he's crying too hard to tell. Suck it up, Al! We are all missing home!

Another tear rolls down my cheek.

I will never get to sleep. The sadness that is overtaking my body, doubling me over, has gone too far. Fatigue is there too. Only it has too much competition to win out, here in the night.

I should at least try to get to sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day. Eight o'clock until six o'clock. That's ten hours. Minus an hour for lunch. Nine hours of training tomorrow. I'd better get to sleep.

I close my eyes, breathe deeply, and think of my bedroom at home.

But home is where the heart is. This is my home now.

My black hair is in my eyes as I awake. The entire dormitory is awake now, because Four woke us up. He says something about two things we are going to learn today, how to shoot a gun and how to fight, but I don't really listen because my body still feels heavy from sleep.

Maybe because it is.

I slept last night with my pillow over my head instead of under it to block out the loud noise of Al crying. My neck is stiff as a consequence of that action.

Puffy-eyed Al looks a bit shocked, I don't think that he thought training would start this hard. I kind of knew, you can sort or tell.

"Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time." Four states.

If stage one involves this much physical work, I'm going to struggle. But so is Tris. I'm tall but lean. Definitely not muscly. Tris is small but not wide and not incredibly lean. Certainly not muscly. We are almost the same in skeletal terms, except I am taller. But standing side by side we are alienated from each other in terms of similarity.

The gun in my hands is cold. Hard. Stiff. Foreign. It is warming from my hand. I move it to the other hand and notice streaks of sweat on the gun.

I am already nervous.

"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure of acting in the midst of fear. Therefore each stage of training is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third primarily mental."

"But what," Peter yawns with each word, "does firing a gun have to do with... bravery?"

Suddenly, without warning, Four presses the gun against Peter's forehead and clicks the bullet into place. There is a collective gasp from the initiates. Peter's mouth is open, quite idiotically, and I'm about to tell him so when Four speaks up.

"And to answer your question... you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself. This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me."

He turns to face the wall with the targets on it, standing with his feet apart and he squeezes the gun. More specifically, he squeezes the trigger.

The bang is louder than when Rose and made popcorn that time at home.

The bullet is in the middle. Right where he aimed it. God. He's so goddamned good.

I turn to my target, and I think about my family watching me fire this gun. I can picture the disapproving look on my mom's face.

I stand with my legs apart, I exhale, I fire.

The bullet hits the wall next to me.

Not exactly what I was aiming for but oh well. I'm not the only one on the can't-hit-the-target-hit-something-else-instead boat.

Actually, everybody's in that boat.

We fire a while more and then Will, an Erudite kid next to me and Tris, speaks to Tris:

Will: Statistically speaking, you should have hit the target at least nice by now, even by accident.

Tris: Is that so?

Will: Yeah, I think you're actually defying nature

Tris fires her gun again and hits the target. I turn and fire and so do I.

"So you see, I'm right. The stats don't lie."

Maybe we do belong here.


End file.
